


Letters to You

by Thewriter680



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Multi, Murder, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-25 23:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thewriter680/pseuds/Thewriter680
Summary: It has been 8 years since The End. The Quagmire Triplets are all together at a VFD training center called The Base. A series of murders start occurring and the victims are looking fairly familiar.Quigley has been given the assignment of finding out who the killer may be. Though the killer may be closer than he thinks—-Multi chapter—-
Relationships: Duncan Quagmire & Isadora Quagmire & Quigley Quagmire (sibling relationship), Violet Baudelaire/Quigley Quagmire
Kudos: 2





	1. November 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: details of brutal death; violence in nature; blood
> 
> ~Please comment and like if you enjoy the story~

Carmelita's breath was coming out in deep, ragged waves as she ran through the forest. Her knees were blooded from the multiple times she has slipped and fallen onto the ground. Her ankle was twisted, but she didn't dare stop in fear of them catching up to her. Twigs and brush broke as she found a tree to hide behind. She tried gathering her breath, her eyes closed. Carmelita gave silent prayers as she tried to pull herself together, her blood running cold as she heard the snapping of a tree branch right behind her. The tears started to fall down, her eyes opening to stare ahead in the darkness.

She could hear the two men speak to each other in Russian, likely trying to find where the woman could've gone to. They spoke for a few minutes before they started off in the direction they came from. Carmelita let out a sigh of relief, turning right into the metal of a gun barrel. She gasped in surprised, looking up at the owner of the weapon. Her eyes widened at who it was, her mouth ajar. "You? It can't be—" before the redhead could speak further, the bullet pierced through her frontal lobe, her body slumping onto the ground in a heap. She let out a few crackling gasps before her body laid still. Carmelita's hazel eyes stared up at the twilight forest sky, motionless. 

The men came running up, seeing their target has been found. 

"Leave her." The owner of the gun said, one of the men picking up the bullet that laid a few yards away with gloves. "Those volunteers will find her body in the morning. They can clean our mess." The person placed their gun away, carrying the one bullet in their chamber. They only ever needed one shot. "One more off the list." The person said as they started back to the house, the men following behind their boss. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++

It's been another one of those weeks, Violet 

Where we are missing you and your siblings.

We miss Sunny's babbling. Now she talks based on how much time has passed. I bet she never shuts up.  
Klaus is more than likely reading about some new subject and sharing it with everyone. I am hoping he is thinking of college now, though I'm sure he's already graduated considering how smart he is.

And you. I hope you're inventing to your hearts delight. I hope you're up late tinkering at some hardware. Or inventing a way to get groceries from a car to a house. I hope you smell like motor oil after a successful job. I hope you smile more now that you are all safe and live well after inheriting your parents fortune. I hope you are happy and have everything you could ever want in life

But most of all, I hope I cross your mind once in awhile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quigley looked up as the meeting started, closing his notebook. 

A volunteer stood at the front of the room, her eyes clouded with sorrow. "This morning, J and S were setting up the training for the new volunteers in the forest beside us—- we are sad to say we have found another body."

"Who is it?" Duncan asked, leaning back into his chair.

"We found ID on the body. We have already alerted her uncle and cousins, but it is Carmelita Spats."

A few volunteers in the room shook their head while the others looked to one another. "But she's on the opposite side, why should we—"

"It was still a life that was cut short in a horrible way." The speaker snapped, crossing her arms. "And we don't believe in killing unless absolutely needed. And from the way the crime scene looked, this was not needed."

"Is there any suspects?" 

"We can't say for sure, but we think it's the same person that has killed in the same forest for the past year. All have been killed with a single gun shot. There's never a bullet left behind, but we believe it may be a small hand gun. They are shot in the middle of their foreheads. All seemed to have been running from someone before their deaths." 

"Do you think they are after volunteers exclusively?" Quigley asked.

"I can't tell, but all but one person has been a volunteer on either side of the schism. Maybe they aren't the main target, but they have been sought out. What I do know is that we need to bring this person down and figure out who has been doing these attacks."

The fellow volunteers shook their heads in agreement. The clock ran to let them know to report to their assignments. "We will check back in if any other news arises. Q, can you please stay? I need to talk to you."

Quigley was standing along with everyone else when he was stopped. He gathered his supplies, his sister nudging him playfully as she walked out with their brother. He walked over to the volunteer, sitting down beside her. "What's going on, A?"

The volunteer, Amelia, smiled softly, taking out a file. "I know that your assignment of mapping the Netherlands has completed. And I know you're probably pretty bored. Would you please take on investigating these crimes? We need a new pair of eyes looking at this."

"I mean, I will do everything I can to help, but I'm not much of a investigator. I think my brother Duncan would be a better choice."

"He has his own assignments to work on. Besides, it would be a good chance to practice on skills that aren't your strong suit. I believe in you." She smiled softly, looking down to the file. She cleared her throat, pushing the file over to him. "Let me know what you find." 

Quigley took hold of the file, his hand brushing against hers. He pulled his hand away the same time she did. He could see a slight pink run across her face as she looked away. Quigley gave her the decency to not react to her blush and acted like he didn't see it. 

"I don't want to hold you up. I'll see you at our next meeting." Amelia smiled, standing.

He smiled back at her, nodding as she stood up as well. He took the file with him, eager to look into the case. Opening up the file, he was met immediately with photos of Carmelita Spats. Quigley remembers her from the Snow Scouts. Her entitlement and rudeness was irritating. The countless stories she told of herself made him want to walk off one of the snowy peaks. Though her joining Olaf’s troupe was forgivable; she was a child then, just like he and his siblings were. Despite all of this, she didn't deserve this fate. 

Quigley sighed to himself as he closed the file. "What am I getting myself into?" He whispered to himself, slumping back into his seat.


	2. November 2nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Who do you think the murderer is?~
> 
> Please like and comment if you enjoy the story

++++++++++++++++++++++

Violet,  
I hope wherever you are, you are safe and warm.

Life here at the Base is.... fine. I have Duncan and Isadora here. Which makes living here better. And we are getting an education. 

But being here prevents me from trying to have some sort of life. We just turned 21. We haven't had any alcoholic drinks since it is against Base's rules. We don't get to go out like normal people our age. We do missions and assignments that take up all of our time 

Through I don't think we would be really into that anyway. But it would be nice to have that option, you know?

I miss you so much. I miss your siblings too, but I miss you especially. There isn't a day that goes by that you don't cross my mind at least once. 

I hope we get to meet each other again one day 

I know you are out there

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Quigley closed his notebook as his siblings came into his room. He tucked it under his pillow before they could see it.

"So what did Miss Amelia Goldstein want now?" Isadora said in a regal tone as she flopped on the bed

Quigley rolled his eyes as his brother laughed. "She was giving me a new assignment to work on."

"Oh and here we thought she wanted to work on you." Duncan laughed as he sat beside his brother. "You know she's dying to get into your pants."

"No, she's not, Duncan." 

"Uh yes she is, Quigley. The way she looks at you is like she will jump your bones the moment you let her."

"I don't see it."

"Besides." Isadora said, leaning back into her arms. "She's a hussy. She's slept with basically every man here on Base except you and Duncan. And that's only because Duncan is gay."

"Thank God." He mumbled.

"It doesn't matter either way because I'm not going to sleep with her." Quigley said. "She's my superior."

"Hardly. She only got the position because her daddy is VFD chairman. And that's why she gets away with everything. Going out on the weekends. Wearing make up and perfume."

"How all her little conquests seem to 'move departments' as soon as she is done with them." Duncan continued.

"Oh I swear if she did that to you Quigley, she would be receiving a double knuckle sandwich from me." 

"Anyway, I will not be sleeping with A." Quigley sighed, taking out the file. "She gave me a new assignment. She wants me to take a look into the murders outside of Base."

Even though he knew he wasn't suppose to, he wanted to share his assignment with his siblings. He wasn't a investigator and wanted their help. They typically shared assignments to gage insight that the other may not have found. 

Both leaned forward to see the folder. Quigley opening it up. The first page featured Carmelita's murder, with pictures.

"Damn. She got her shit blown up."

"Isadora!"

"What! It was only a matter of time. I mean, what happened to her was horrible, but she had it coming. She was annoyingly rude then and I'm sure she wasn't much better now." Isadora shrugged her shoulders. 

Duncan snickered, taking ahold of the file to look through. "Who were the victims again?"

"First victim was Justice Strauss, a judge at City Hall. Phil and Sir Jackson, partners of the Lucky Smell's Lumbar Mill. Nero Hamilton, former vice principal, Jerome Squalor, heir to the Squalor fortune. Esme. And now Carmelita." Quigley named off as he place the pictures in the order of the death. "From what A said, almost all of them are volunteers of some sort. Except for Judge Strauss." 

"That's a lot of death." Isadora said, looking the pictures over.

"And all killed by a single gun shot." Duncan said, reading through the autopsies. "Which, to me says that the killer knew they were going to kill these people." 

"That's why it's believed that it's the same person." Quigley said, looking over the newspaper clippings. 

"A serial killer." Isadora's brows furrowed.

"There is something else interesting." Duncan was writing in his notebook. "All these victims are linked."

Quigley looked at Duncan confused. "How? More than half don't seem to be connected."

"Yes. Esme adopted Carmelita as a child. She was formally married to Jerome Squalor. Yes, we know they are connected. Nero was Vice President of Carmelita's former boarding school."

"But that's where it ends."

"No, it doesn't. Then you have Phil and Sir Jackson. And Justice Strassus. They are all connected."

"How Duncan?"

He looked between his siblings, putting his notebook down. "They all knew the Baudelaires."

Isadora looked between her brothers. "You really think— someone could be killing people who were close to the Baudelaires?"

"I didn't say that. All I am saying is that it's a coincidence." Duncan said.

"It makes sense." Quigley said. "I didn't realize the judge and the business partners knew the Baudelaires." He sighed in concentration as he read through the file.

"Maybe it's Olaf?" Isadora whispered, not daring to speak his name any louder.

Duncan and Quigley looked at her, holding their breath. 

"I mean... that could always be a possibility. But that's not Olaf's MO." Duncan pointed out. "He typically uses fire. And has other people do his dirty work."

Isadora nodded as she recalled the memories of being kidnapped by the one eyebrow man. "But who knows. It's been 8 years. He could've evolved. And he wants revenge."

"But why would he be killing those who knew the Baudelaire's instead of finding them and killing them?" Quigley asked.

"Well, last we heard, they were on that Island. Maybe Olaf doesn't know that and thinks killing them would make them come out." Isadora theorized. 

"That's good thinking." Quigley said, taking his second notebook out and made some notes. "Or maybe it could one of his former henchmen?"

"Well Fernald is a semi volunteer on our end who does short assignments once in awhile. The White-Faced women and Orland are on off Broadway performing. They aren't volunteers. The circus freaks are in a traveling carnival. Not volunteers." Duncan took his brothers notebook and wrote that out.

"Fiona is with her brother Fernald and is a semi volunteer on our end too." Isadora continued. "And Esme and Carmelita are dead. So—"

"Well, I can start with Olaf in mind and see where it takes me." Quigley said, taking his notebook when his brother offered it back. 

"Quigley, please be careful. If Olaf finds out you are looking into him—"

"Don't worry, Issie. I won't be searching him directly. I will be looking into the cases. See what I can find." Quigley assured her, lending his hand out to rub her knee. "Tomorrow, I am poising as a police officer to talk to two brothers who live on a cabin a few miles away from Base.

"The Russian brothers? Police have talked to them before and they deny any knowledge." Duncan said. "Maybe pose as one of their family members to gain access."

"Yeah, that's a better idea. I was going to try to connect a rock speaker outside of their home to see if anything could accidentally be said." Quigley said.

"Good idea. Just be careful." Duncan said, gathering the pictures. 

Isadora nodded in agreement. "Don't be a hero, just find what you can and leave." She was afraid of loosing him again. 

Quigley smiled at his sister, shaking his head. "I'll be careful. Don't worry."


	3. November 3rd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murderer seems to want to get the Baudelaire’s attention? What is their motive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Please like and comment if you enjoy the story~

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The weather is getting colder here, Violet 

I never was a fan of cold weather

Except when I met you, it made winter a little more bearable

I often think of where we could be if we stayed in contact 

Would we be friends? More than friends? Not talking?

I can only think 'what if' at this point

I hope to think we would've stayed in contact in some way 

I rather be a friend than an enemy 

I do possess feelings that could go further into the direction of "love". It's not hard to fall in love with you. You're fiercely independent, family oriented, wickedly smart. And on top of that, you're beautiful. I can't pinpoint exactly what makes you beautiful without saying your whole being. One feature compliments the other. Though your beauty is not the main attraction, it is the icing on top. 

I do love you, but in the sense of family. But I want to fall in love with you. If you would allow me to. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He put his notebook into his top dresser drawer. It started out as a few notes here and there; after a hard day or a happy moment came across his mind, he would write to her. But then Quigley found himself writing letters to Violet at least once a day, so he decided to combine it into a notebook to keep in one place. Often it would be letting her know how Duncan and Isadora were. Or asking her how Klaus and Sunny were. Random thoughts that passed his mind or secrets of the Base he couldn't tell anyone else. 

Often, he would be confessing how he felt about her.

Quigley wouldn't say he was in love with her. It was impossible to be in love when the two people have only met once. He did hold her in high standards in his heart and he wanted to explore a relationship with her. Even if she didn't return the same feelings, he wanted to be a part of her life anyway he could. 

The Baudelaire's were special in all of the Quagmires lives. They were friends, allies, and their chosen family. And they have already lost enough family that thinking they too have passed made the triplets hearts ache. They held onto the hope that they were building a life on that island far away from the evil that was Olaf. If they knew they were alive, they would feel better. If they never saw them again, at least knowing they were safe would put the Quagmires nerves at ease. 

Quigley was dressed in civilian clothes as he made the walk to the cabin. It was covered by high trees and a good walk on a warm day. But the cabin never really was associated with the Base. He stood a few yards away, looking up at it.

Three stories of beautiful cedar wood. It had a few windows, though when opened, they were large and allowed sunlight to come in. The blinds were closed tightly now, which made sense since it was chilly and barley any light today. He walked over to the door, pressing the button on his rock speaker. He threw it close to the door as he knocked, preparing for the owner to open the door.

A muscular man appeared, his light hair cut into a crew cut. He had to stand at least 6'5, with muscles that were as big as Quigley's head. He looked down with piercing eyes that felt like he stared into his soul. He wore a tight shirt that seemed too small for him, his chest bulging. "Hello?" He asked in a thick Russian accent.

Quigley was a little taken back and almost forgot why he was here. He got into his character, looking away as he started to become upset. "Hey, I don't mean to bother you, I just.... I don't know what else to do. My girlfriend was killed a few days ago. Red hair, green eyes. She was found outside in your field. Do you have any idea what happened?"

"I spoke to police earlier about last death, I have no words for you." The man said as he seemed to close the door.

Quigley stepped forward as he stretched his arm out, his finger tips on the inside of the cabin door. "What? Other deaths? You mean there's more?"

The man's eyes widened as he seemed to slip up. "Not too sure. Lot of death when you live in forest."

"I bet. But I just wanted to know if you heard anything? Police are going to talk to me this afternoon. I can't believe this happened. It's was a Very Sad Day when they told me."

"Mhmm, sorry."

He sighed internally. Quigley wasn't getting anywhere with this guy. And he used a coded message that he didn't seem to get. At least he wasn't a volunteer, which cleared him into thinking it could be someone on the either side of the schism. "Yeah, well it was nice talking to you, man. I wish you good living. Be careful."

"You too." The man lend his hand out for Quigley to shake. He returned the favor. 

As he made it at least a mile away, he made sure his hand was preserved from touching anything else. He made it almost back to the Base when he saw sirens everywhere. He furrowed his brows, walking a little faster to the scene. Quigley saw volunteers and police standing around, talking into their radios. He saw Amelia, running up to her. "Hey, what's going on?"

Amelia turned, a police offer trying to shoo him away. "No, he's with me." She assured the man. She turned to back to Quigley. "They found another one. This one was a lot sooner than the last one." She said sadly.

Quigley followed her over to the scene and was shocked to see body in front of him. An African American man in a tan suit laid on his stomach. His hat was beside him and a handkerchief in his hand. "Arthur Poe. President of Mulctuary Money Management...Overseeing the Baudelaire fortune."


	4. November 3rd (continued)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is the murders somehow associated with the mafia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Please like and comment if you enjoy the story~

Quigley was in the Base's lab, pressing his hand into some black powder. He went over to a handprint scanner and laid his hand onto the tray, the lasers processing. He looked down to see that it was going to take a few hours to defer his prints from the man's. He wiped his hands as he took out his speaker to see if he caught any talking yet.

"Hey! Those are my clothes!" Duncan exclaimed.

Quigley jumped, almost dropping his speaker. "Yes, I needed to use them." He walked over to his brother who took off his beanie. "I spoke to that man in the cabin."

Duncan took his brothers arm as they walked back to his room. "Well, your phone is also turned off and Isadora has been having panic attacks all afternoon. I am pretty sure she's written like 30 couplets by now."

They got to his room to see a pacing Isadora, pulling at her sweaters sleeve. She let out a breath of relief as she saw both her brothers, walking over to wrap her arms around Quigley. "I've been worried sick. When you told me you were going to be back by 1:00 PM, and I saw it was 3:00 PM, I thought something bad happened."

"Sorry Isadora." He said sheepishly. "I turned my phone off and got caught up with Amelia. They found another body." Quigley looked down the hallway each way, shuffling back into his room and locked the door.

"Another one?" Duncan said, sitting on his bed. "That is very soon. They barley just found Carmelita's body." 

"I know. And... it is Arthur Poe."

Both of his siblings eyes grew even wider. "You're kidding right?" Isadora said, covering her mouth. "Single gun shot to the forehead?" She rubbed the area between her eyes as Quigley nodded. "Oh my goodness. This has to be someone looking for the Baudelaire's. It's too good to not be a coincidence."

"This is beyond weird." Duncan agreed. "This is someone who knew the Baudelaire's lives extremely well."

"Yeah. And when I went to the cabin, I gave one of the men a coded message, but he didn't seem to catch on. I don't think he's a volunteer."

"You sure he wasn't just pretending?"

"I don't think so, Dun. It went right over his head. He did seem shocked when he reveled to me that he said he didn't know anything to another cop and I voiced concern about other murders."

"Almost like he slipped up." Isadora said.

"Exactly. So I don't think these Russian men are the murderers, I do think they are involved in some way. Before Duncan spooked me, I was in the lab because I shook hands with the man and preserved his handprint to see if he will show up in the system. And I placed a rock speaker outside of the cabin. Connected with a tiny speak I stuck to the inside of their door." He took out his walkie talkie, turning it on. There was some adjustment before they heard some Russian being spoken. 

"It works!" Duncan said, leaning in to listen. 

"I'll keep it on all night to see if anything is said."

"So, if these guys aren't volunteers, do you think it could still be Olaf?" Isadora asked.

"I mean, I don't think we can eliminate him. Even if his goons don't know much about VFD, Olaf could be doing it on purpose to keep them in the dark." Quigley reasoned, setting the walkie talkie down. 

"True." She agreed, before her brows furrowed as she took a closer look at the outfit that Quigley was wearing. "Is that... is that Duncan's shirt?"

"Yes and he didn't ask!"

"You had it in my closet. It's fair game when it's in my room." 

++++++++++++++++++++++

The results came back from the scanner a few hours later. Quigley gathered his siblings in Isadora's room as they were all getting ready for bed. 

"Ivan Alexeyev. He's a member of the Russian mafia. Though according to news articles, he's suppose to be dead." 

"Unless you have seen a ghost, he's not dead." Duncan said, laughing.

"I really don't think this is Olaf then." Isadora said more seriously. "Olaf is stupid, but I don't think he's stupid enough to deal with the Russian mafia."

"Maybe he's offering him protection."

"From the way Quigley described him, this man could use Olaf as a toothpick. He doesn't need protection."

"Maybe not physical protection. Maybe protection from being sent home and found out he's alive."

"Like a sponsor?" Quigley said. "I don't think Olaf is smart enough to get into that sort of business. I'm thinking maybe this guys truly doesn't have any involvement with the murders. Sounds like a guy who is trying to hide from the mafia."

"Well, you still have your bug device. To clear him once and for all."

++++++++++++++++++++++

After everything I've been through, I find it hard to sleep at night

Right now it's 3:00 AM and I can safely say I won't be getting sleep tonight

Do you find it hard to sleep, Violet?

I often think about my parents. How lovely my mother was and how strong my father was

I often think they lied to us about being in VFD, but now I look back and they told us they were the whole time 

Breaking out of jail in Peru. Flying over the Alps. Skydiving. We thought they were being silly

They did all of that. And I can't be mad at them since they did tell us the truth. They just didn't specify that they were part of the organization 

Are you still upset with your parents? You can't tell me you aren't. Just a little. I think we all hold a little anger with our parents for leaving so soon. Leaving us in the dark and having to put the puzzle pieces together.

I hope you are sleeping well at this time of night

++++++++++++++++++++++++

He tucked his notebook into his pillow case, turning to lay on his back. Quigley didn’t hold interest in staying with VFD fully after his education is finished. The organization did too much to his family and he couldn’t find himself investing the rest of his life defending people who killed his parents. He knew Isadora hated it here and Duncan would’ve left a long time ago if it wasn’t for them. “Just a few more months.” Quigley looked to the calendar he had hanging up.


	5. November 4th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murderer is closer than you think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Please like and comment if you enjoy the story~

Quigley sat with ear phones at one of the interpreter stations, listening to the conversations that were found on his bug device. He took notes of highlighted conversations.

He found that Ivan had a brother living there as well. Bruno. The majority of their conversations were in Russian, but they did speak English once in awhile

Bruno: who was at the door?  
Ivan: some kid. Said his girlfriend was the bitch that was found in the forest   
Bruno: did you say anything?  
Ivan: no! Do I look like a dumbass? I acted like I didn't know anything. He believed it.  
Bruno: good

He recorded this for later use, making a note of the time this conversation was made. There were a few domestic talks for a few hours. What was for dinner. If the other wanted to work out. Watching TV. Talking on the phone. He was about to give up when he got a shock 

A third voice

Of a woman

Unidentifiable woman: I heard a knock earlier. Who was it?  
Ivan: just some guy. He was the boyfriend of that Spats bitch  
Unidentifiable woman: you're kidding right? Did you tell him anything  
Bruno: he didn't  
Unidentifiable woman: good. Because I think it was a trick. She doesn't have a boyfriend. Trust me, I've kept tabs on her before we got her. There were no men  
Ivan: oh really?   
Unidentifiable woman: yes, you goon. That's why I'm the brains and you're the muscle. What did he look like?  
Ivan: uh, probably early 20’s. Dark hair. Blue eyes. About 5'11  
Unidentifiable woman: hmmmm... I may know who that is. Let me know if you see him again. Pack up your bags. We're leaving. Can't have them snooping around here more.  
Ivan and Bruno: OK, Boss

That ended the recording up until now. He quickly got the conversations on tape, his fingers stumbling. He gathered his stuff quickly, nearly running down the hallway. He got to his sisters assignment group, opening the door without consideration of what was going on. "Isadora. I need you."

She looked over surprised to see her brother, looking around to her team members. She excused herself, grabbing her notebook and files. As she got to him, he whispered. "Go to my room. I'll get Duncan." She nodded, parting ways once the door closed.

Duncan and him walked back to his room, Duncan almost not able to keep up as Quigley almost ran there.

"What's wrong?" Isadora asked as they all sat on his bed. He turned on the recording device, listening to what he caught. They all sat silent on his bed after what they heard, not sure what to make of it. "Quigley.... this woman... she knows who you are."

"Or thinks she knows him." 

"Duncan, how many men do you know who are 5'11, black hair and blue eyes? Aside from you and Quigley? I don't know many." Isadora said. "This woman seems to be the murderer. Who is she? And why is she doing this?"

"I have no idea. This was at the end of my tape."

"Well, you aren't going back to find out more. You need to give this case up. This woman seems to think she knows you and is aware you're looking into her crimes. Please give this assignment up, Quigley. You found some good information, but you will get hurt if you continue this." Isadora said with tears in her eyes. "Please. Give A this case back. I can't find you the same way all those other people were found."

Quigley saw the distress in his sisters eyes, his heart hurting. He didn't like to see his sister so upset, and since finding them again, he didn't want to risk loosing them. "I will, Issie. Don't worry. No one is going to hurt me."

He saw the relief in her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just hope whoever this person is, she won't hurt the Baudelaire's."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Wow, that's amazing." Amelia said as she listened to what he found. "We never did think to investigate the cabin." 

"Yeah, I figured it was a long shot, but it did uncover some information not yet discovered." He looked at the file and the tape. "That's not fully what I wanted to talk to you about though."

Amelia's brows rose, leaning forward. "Oh?"

"I feel like I should give you the assignment back."

"You've found so much information though! Why give it up now?"

"I know, but the fact is, the murderer seems to know who I am and I don't want to put myself nor my family in danger." He wasn't going to mention Isadora's distress since she shouldn't know about the case anyway. "I think it's best to have someone else continue this. I'll take on another assignment in its place." 

"If that's how you feel, I respect your wishes." She said, taking the file. Amelia smiled, standing. "I'll get you another assignment in the morning. Good work. You really opened this case into a different direction."

Quigley smiled back, standing as well. "Thanks. I hope we can find whoever is doing this."

"Yeah. And maybe we can even uncover where the Baudelaire siblings could be as well. Wouldn't that be great."

"Yeah, wouldn't it." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was another night where he couldn't sleep. He grabbed his notebook and a pen, pulling his coat on. On these late nights that he couldn't sleep, aside from writing, he could take a quick stroll around the outside of the Base. He left his cellphone as he wasn't planning on being gone long. 

He took in a deep breath of fresh air as he started outside. The lights were dimmed for the late night associates. He started off on a short trial, the moon shining bright.

‘Is the moon just as bright as where you are?’ He thought to himself. 

His last thought to himself as he felt a sharp poke to his neck. He yelped shortly, his hand going to his neck. It was a small dart. He looked around to see no one around. He suddenly got very tired, falling to his knees. Then he slumped against the building, his eyes starting to close. The last image he saw before it got dark was two pairs of legs.


	6. November 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Please like and comment if you enjoy the story~

Duncan was sound asleep when he was awaked by banging on his door. He stumbled out of bed, finding his sister at the door. "Hmmm, Issie?"

"Duncan, I can't find Quigley."

"What time is is?" He rubbed his eyes.

"It's 7:39 AM. Duncan, I can't find Quigley. He usually meets me at the foyer every morning at 6:30 to walk before breakfast. And when he didn't show, I called but no answer."

"Maybe he's asleep? Or in the library? He has a habit of not answering his phone."

"I already looked there. And in the classrooms. And the rec room. And the music room. And the greenhouse. So I went to his room and he wasn't there. He didn't have his phone either." She cried, holding his phone up to Duncan. "What if that woman in the recording got him?"

Duncan was awake now, looking at the phone. He went back into his room to put on his coat and shoes. "Let's find A. We need to talk to her." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Quigley groaned as he woke, his vision blurry. His head was pounding as he tried to figure out where he was. He went to lower his arms, but found he was handcuffed. "What the?" He mumbled, trying to clear his mind. He looked up at the cuffs as he tried to figure them out in his daze, shaking his wrists. He tried to remember back to his Escape Class 101 lessons. Damn, now I wished I paid more attention, he thought, closing his eyes from how dizzy he still was. He opened his eyes to find his vision was a little better, tugging at his cuffs. He twisted his hands left, right, upright. "Fuck." He mumbled, leaning his head back as he tried to recall what he learned. 

His vision became better and he could see he was in a bedroom. He was cuffed to a bed. He tried raising his hands but found it was around a column in the bed. He sat up in the bed the best he could, taking a closer look at the cuffs. Quigley rubbed the chains of the cuffs against the wooden column and he could see it was loose. He started to rub against the chains harder, the column slipping off. He moved his hands up, free from the bed but still cuffed. This at least gave him the ability to freely walk about the room.

Quigley started to look for a safety pin, paper clip, anything he could use to make a key to get these off him. The room was bare except for the bed, end table and a basic bathroom with a shower. He went into the bathroom, finding the water worked. He placed his hands under the running water, rubbing his wrists with the water. It was a long shot, but he hoped this worked. It felt like hours before he felt his left wrist slip from the cuff. He started to do the same to the other, the other off as well.

He ran about the room, not finding a window. He looked to the closet and found it empty. The only way out seemed to be the door. He walked over, his hand on the knob. He could feel it turn under his grip, pulling it away suddenly. He felt his heart stop as it opened, looking up to see a muscular man with light brown hair. Equally as big as the man he saw before. This must be Bruno.

"Wasn't expecting you to be awake already." A woman's voice said behind the man. Quigley recognized it as the voice from the tape. Now that he heard it in person, it sounded familiar. Though he couldn't place it. "Never mind. I figured you would gotten your way out." He furrowed his brows, watching as she stepped into view. His eyes widened, stepping back.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Isadora ran towards the cafeteria, Duncan running after her. "What are you doing?" He called, zipping his coat up so it wasn't so obvious he was wearing his pajamas. 

She was focused when she stopped in front of the entrance as she looked for her target. Isadora saw Amelia eating with a few friends, marching over. Duncan saw her intent, trying to grab her. She loosened from his hold, going up to the table. 

Amelia looked up to the other female. "Hello?"

Isadora looked to the friends who were giving her side eyes. "Go." She told them, met with surprised faces. "Did I fucking stutter? Go." She cocked her head for them to leave. The women got the hint as they picked up their breakfast. Duncan stood behind Isadora sheepishly, giving the women quiet thanks and apologizes. 

"Now Isadora..."

"Don't fucking start with me, Amelia. Take your holy than tho attitude and save it for your daddy. My brother is missing."

Amelia looked between her and Duncan, who was currently arms crossed and trying to hold himself together. 

"The other one." He said, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, the one you're trying to fuck." Duncan gave a hard cough at this, looking at Isadora in shock. "Oh stop it, Duncan. The whole department knows. It's not like I am wrong." 

Amelia blinked in surprise, her face heating up. "I-I- don't know where you're going with this, I."

"Where I am going with this is that Quigley has been ignoring your advances and you give him this assignment to cover. Then when he finds some information, he gives it back. And now he is missing. Now either you know where he is or we have a murderer loose in the Base."

Amelia was shocked by Isadora's admission. "It is secured information to know about—"

"Shut up, Amelia. You know as well as I do that everyone knows everyone's cases. Much like how everyone knows whose bed you've been in. Now tell me where my brother is. Did you have something to do with it?"

Amelia got over the initial shock that was Isadora's attack, but she knew how deeply she cared for her family. She didn't take it personally. "No, I don't have anything to do with him being missing." She said calmly as she stood. "But if he is missing, we need to figure out where he could be. Follow me." She started off towards the security room, Duncan lagging behind the two women.


	7. Meeting The Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. -Friedrich Nietzsche.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Please like and comment if you enjoy the story~

Quigley couldn't believe his eyes. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't still drowsy. "Violet? Violet Baudelaire? Is that you?" He wanted to move closer to her, to hug her. Though her energy was off and he felt himself wanting to hide from her: 

Violet laughed a bit at his confusion. However, her laugh was harsh. A condescending, hateful chuckle. "Yes. That is me, and you are Quigley Quagmire? My how times have changed."

He seemed to almost be chilled by her words. This wasn't the Violet he remembered. This wasn't the Violet his heart warmed for. The Violet he so eagerly wanted to kiss....

"What- what is going on? Are you-"

"I should have known you would've joined the schism. You were always weak minded in that regard."

Excuse me? The thought crossed his mind as he was taken aback by her statement. "I'm sorry?"

"You always were disgustingly positive. Cute as a teenager, really, but now it's really kind of old."

"Excuse me?" He finally let his mind speak. "Who are you to judge me?"

"Oh, a little spice I see." Violet laughed, leaning against the dresser. "Tell me more."

"Who are you? What is— this? This isn't the Violet I know I."

"Then looks like you didn't know me as well as you thought you did." She sneered, shrugging her shoulders. "I know you though. All you volunteers are the same. You want to push your agenda, but don't actually try. Lazy, don't you think?"

He furrowed his brows, not believing what he was hearing. "I'm not a volunteer, Violet. With all of your mighty knowledge, you would've known that I live at the Base. I'm getting an education. And at the end of this year, I get to chose if I wanted to be one or not. So don't associate me with the schism." 

"I'm so sorry, forgive me for my slip up." She rolled her eyes, stepping forward. Violet laughed as he took a step back. "We aren't playing this dance. We will eventually run out of room."

"You killed all those people." It sounded like a question, but it was a statement. He had to say it out loud for his mind to process it. "You murdered all of those people... for what?"

"Look at you, little detective, solving the mystery. While the police are still scratching their heads. Murder is such a strong word. I was merely taking out the trash. Did the world really need Esme Squalor and Carmelita Spats in it? I don't think so."

"That isn't for you to decide. They are still people who didn't deserve that."

"For all the distress they caused, I believe it's fitting."

"It's murder, Violet! You can't justify why it's done. You're not any better than them. You killed all those people for what?"

"To wrong what they did to me." She glared at the other. "To right what they failed to do. All of those people are the reason why my siblings are dead today."

Quigley's heart sunk at her words. "Klaus and Sunny... they're..."

Violet stepped forward violently, gripping his shirt roughly. She pressed him against the wall, holding a gun under his chin. "You don't get to say their names!"

He gasped, but didn't break his eye contact with her. Even as he felt the metal of the gun to his skin. "And what are you going to do?" He gripped her other wrist, twisting it backwards. She yelped, dropping the gun. "With a empty chamber?" He let her go, pushing her away. Quigley could feel his heart sink as he looked at who she had become. "Who the fuck are you? I don't even recognize you anymore, Violet." 

She rubbed her wrist; she wasn't expecting him to fight back like that. Maybe she did underestimate him... Violet looked up at him, leaning down to pick her gun up. "I'm who society made me. They made me into this." She stood straighter, putting the gun back in her hidden holster. "Those people made my life a living hell. So I thought it was fitting to directly send them to where they belong."

He fixed his shirt as she continued talking, rubbing under his chin. "Is that why you brought me here? You're going to send me to Hell?" Quigley wasn't naive; he knew that the likelihood of leaving this place on his own was extremely thin. His body shook on the inside, but he put a brave face on. He imagined Isadora near by and how upset she would be if he fought back. If he— 

Violet laughed, shrugging. "I don't know, I haven't decided what I want to do with you yet. All I know is that I couldn't let you continue snooping around and discover the truth." She stepped forward a bit, her shoe clicking against the hardwood floor. "Maybe I would lock you in here and have you starve. Or I could kill you here and dump your body in front of the Base? That would be something new. Or maybe I just kill you and send your heart directly to your sister—"

"Fuck you, bitch!" Quigley was surprised by his own words, but he couldn't hear her go on. "You will not drag my siblings into your anger. You issue is with me, not them." He got into her face, causing her to step back. "If you're as big and bad as you claim to be, you would kill me now. Come on, I'm here. I'm in your face. Kill me."

Violet herself was a little surprised by his sudden outburst. She felt him get into her face, all she could see was his bright blue eyes. She could hear one of her men walk in. "There's no need, Ivan. I am fine." She called to him as he stood between them, ready to pull them back. They both stepped back on their own. She smirked a bit at Quigley. "It's kind of sexy to see you get all worked up." She went into her pocket, pulling out a cigarette. "I almost forgot how hot I found you. No, I'll keep you alive a little bit longer." She placed the cigarette in her mouth, looking him over. "I need to think about what I want to do with you." She turned away as she lit her cigarette, starting out of the room. "Ivan, take whatever he has in his pockets. Don't want the little Boy Scout getting any ideas."

Before the man could get any closer, he threw his coat off, clearing his pockets. He didn't have much: just some gum wrappers and crumbled up notes. His coat didn't have much either. His wallet that had no money. His VFD lD and his favorite picture of him and his siblings. Quigley forgot he had his notebook in there.

His letters to Violet.

Quigley watched as the man took his coat and wrappers, locking the door behind him. He slumped to the bed, his face in his hands. He tried to keep it together, but he felt the tears run down his face. Silent as he taught himself through the years.

This wasn't Violet. This monster wasn't the girl he met on the mountains. 

This was someone who was broken down by their hate and need for revenge 

This was someone who will be the last person he sees on this Earth if he doesn't get out.


End file.
